


Rest

by st_mick



Series: Niffler [15]
Category: Doctor Who (2005), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Torchwood
Genre: Comfort/Care, M/M, References to the Year that Never Was, Some angst, Temporary memory blanks, fatigue, much fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-12-30 02:31:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18306392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/st_mick/pseuds/st_mick
Summary: Ianto and Jack accept Professor McGonagall's invitation to retreat to Hogwart's to recover from their ordeal.  In his fatigue and overwhelm, Ianto does not remember some rather important details.  And Jack discovers, much to his regret, that there are things that Ianto does remember.  Time together will help them both to begin to recover.





	Rest

Luna and Ianto arrived at the gates of Hogwarts within moments of Professor McGonagall and Jack.  Draco arrived soon after that.  They all walked to the castle together, surprised that it was only about ten o’clock.  The day had been so long and draining, it seemed like it ought to be the middle of the night. 

Professor McGonagall led them to the guest quarters on the first floor.  “You shall have your privacy, as no one else is staying, at the moment.  Although, I would suggest that you stay the night as well, Miss Lovegood.”

“Thank you, Professor, I believe I shall,” Luna smiled.

“Then we’ll try not to be too loud,” Jack said with a grin, but it was clear that he was too fatigued for his heart to be in it. 

Ianto rolled his eyes and lay his head on Jack’s shoulder.  _So tired_.  “That’s what the _muffliato_ spell is for, Jack,” he gave his own half-hearted grin.  Never could resist flirting with Jack, even when there was no capacity to follow through.  Not without a week’s worth of sleep and a few meals…

Professor McGonagall, Draco and Luna all looked around, wide-eyed as the spell almost crackled around them.  Professor McGonagall drew out her wand and gave a light tap, to release the spell, but there was a spark.  “Quite a powerful little spell you just cast, Mr. Jones, and without even meaning to,” she remarked.

“What?” Ianto’s head came up off Jack’s shoulder.  “What do you mean?”

“Just…” Draco stared at his friend.  “Just try not to talk about, or maybe even think about any spells, until we can do that assessment, yeah?”

“You mean he just cast a spell, without his wand, without even meaning to?” Jack was a bit more alert, now.

“He did,” Professor McGonagall nodded.  “We suspected the ability to cast wandless spells, after what happened with Dr. Harper, earlier.”

Jack felt Ianto shudder as both remembered Ianto hurling Owen across the room when he touched Ianto, just after he woke and was panicking. 

“I believe the lack of intentionality is just fatigue,” Professor McGonagall continued.  “Draco?”

Draco nodded and pulled three bottles from his robes – two blue and one green.  He handed the green bottle to Luna.  “This will help soothe your mind, after all of your visions, today.”  He reached out and wrapped his free arm around her and kissed her forehead.  “I’ll stop by and check on you tomorrow.  Sleep well, Luna.”

“Thank you, Draco,” she smiled tiredly.  She reached out and gave Jack a quick hug, then held Ianto for quite a while.  “You scared me today, Nif.”

“I’m sorry,” he replied quietly.

“Not your fault,” she smiled again.  “Goodnight.” 

“Goodnight, Moon-bug,” Ianto said.  He looked as though he was about to fall asleep on his feet.

She squeezed Professor McGonagall’s hand and stepped into the guest room the professor had assigned her.

“Nif, take this,” Draco handed him the potion bottle, “and for Merlin’s sake, sleep.  You too, Jack,” he said, handing Jack the other bottle.

“What is this?” Jack asked.

“A dreamless sleep potion.  You both need a couple of nights of uninterrupted sleep, after what you’ve been through.  Drink half tonight and half when you wake in the morning, after you eat something.  I’ll check in on you in the afternoon and bring you more.”

At that, everyone said goodnight, and Jack and Ianto retired to their room.  It was a lovely, well-appointed room with a huge canopied bed, complete with thick, heavy bed curtains.  It was a sign of just how exhausted Jack was that the lovely and inviting bed didn’t have him making plans for its use beyond sleep, just yet.

He and Ianto stood under the large waterfall shower and washed away the dirt and grime and blood and sorrow of the day.  Once clean and dry, they drank their potions and crawled into the bed.  Ianto pulled the curtains and lay down, pulling Jack close.  This was one of those nights when Jack was the one to sprawl across Ianto, rather than the other way round. 

“I’m sorry you lost your brother, Jack,” Ianto whispered into Jack’s hair.

Jack was still too numb to absorb what had happened to Gray.  It would hit him tomorrow, he expected.  For now, he marveled at Ianto’s understanding.  “After what he did to you,” Jack couldn’t finish the sentence.  Part of him knew that Gray had been too far gone to be helped, and to just freeze him as he had been inclined to do, once it was clear he was captured, would have been to consign him to an eternity of limbo.  Now, perhaps he could find some measure of peace, in death.

Ianto shrugged.  “You lost your brother.  It’s separate from what he did to me.”

“But what he did was my fault.”

“Don’t tell me you’re back to that, again,” he said sternly, pulling Jack closer.  “No, Jack.  What he did is a result of the choices he made.  And those choices were influenced by the creatures that took him.  None of this is down to you, other than the fact that you were the unfortunate target of a lifetime of hatred borne from torture.  It’s not fair, but it’s most certainly not your fault.”

“Okay,” Jack sighed.  It was Ianto’s grounding influence that had kept Jack sane, through the events of the day.  It gave him hope that he might eventually come to believe Ianto’s assertions more often than deny them. 

They lay there quietly, Ianto stroking long, elegant fingers up and down Jack’s spine, helping him to relax.  Jack realized that Ianto was taking care of him.  Which was wonderful, but it also deflected from whatever care he might need, for himself.

“You’re very quiet,” Jack observed, tracing patterns in the hair on Ianto’s chest.  He scooched just a bit closer, trying to feel as much of Ianto’s warmth against his skin as possible.

“Mmm,” Ianto sighed.  “Jack…”

“Yes, Love?” Jack smiled, pleased he could say that now, without holding back.  He frowned when he felt Ianto tense beneath him.

“Don’t do that,” Ianto said quietly, kissing the top Jack’s head.

“Don’t do what?”

“Don’t…  I just don’t want you to feel like you have to do that.”

Jack felt a knot forming in his belly.  “Like I have to do what?”

Ianto sighed.  “I don’t want you to do something you wouldn’t normally want to do, just out of gratitude, is all.  You’ll only end up feeling trapped, and hating me for it.”

“What?” Jack sat up.  “Ianto…”

“Jack,” Ianto leaned forward and kissed Jack.  “I’m knackered, and the potion’s about to kick in.  We can talk tomorrow.  Or not.  It’s okay, really.  We can just go back to how we were before, and chalk this up to me coming over all maudlin, when I’m about to die.”

Jack hadn’t missed the tears that Ianto had tried to hide when Jack sat up unexpectedly. 

 _Bloody fucking fucking fucking hell_! 

“Ianto, I know you’re tired, but you need to know that this is not gratitude.  Yes, I am grateful, but that’s not what makes me love you.”

Jack could see that the potion was having its effect.  Ianto was having difficulty holding his eyes open.  So was he, truth be told. 

“You’ve never said,” Ianto whispered.  “And that’s okay.  Really, it is.  It just seems… why else would you start saying it now?”

Jack’s heart ached.  “Because I was an idiot, before.  Ianto, we’re going to talk about this tomorrow, okay?”

Ianto frowned, but gave a nod as he finally surrendered to sleep.  Jack practically collapsed on top of him as sleep claimed him, as well.

***

Jack slept longer than he normally would.  He woke gradually, enjoying the warmth of the body wrapped around his.  It was the gradual awakening that kept him from being startled by his surroundings as the events of the day before came back to him, as well as where he was, now.

He leaned away from Ianto’s embrace, and the younger man muttered something in his sleep and turned onto his back.  For a few moments, Jack just stared at that beautiful face, allowing himself to feel all of the emotions he had been fighting for so long.  He thought about their conversation the night before, and he knew he needed to make this right. 

He just wasn’t sure how.

He crept from the bed and quietly dressed, then made his way down to the Great Hall after there was no answer when he knocked at the door to Luna’s guestroom.  He found her at the table at the head of the Hall, sitting next to Neville.  Both looked well rested and energetic.  Jack took a chair at the end of the table so he could face both of them, feeling his age.  Simply dressing and making his way to the Great Hall had him wishing for his bed, again.  Luna poured him a cup of tea, and he took it with thanks.

“I seem to have made a bit of a mess of things,” he said, sighing.

Neville’s eyes widened, and Luna nodded.  “He thinks you’ve only finally said it because he took away your immortality,” she stated.

Jack nodded miserably.

Neville shifted uncomfortably.  “You should know, the last time he was here, he told me that you weren’t his boyfriend, because you don’t like labels.”

Jack winced.

“I asked if you were together, and he said, ‘probably’.  So…  Before yesterday I don’t think he really knew for sure where you two stood.”  He shrugged.  “Given everything else, it makes sense he doesn’t really trust the sudden shift.”

“Probably?” Jack was dismayed.  Once again, it struck him how very little Ianto had ever demanded of him.  He remembered now how Ianto had been surprised when Jack told him that they’d been exclusive and monogamous since his return from the Year. 

“Jack, you come from a time and place where labels have become unnecessary, because people are so completely open that they know what they mean to one another.  But here, you don’t want the labels, but can you say you’ve had that openness, that Ianto has any idea what he means to you?”  Luna’s asked.

Jack shook his head.  “You’re right.  I’ve criticized the labels, but I've done nothing to let him know…”

Her eyes went out of focus.  “He thinks you didn’t want to define things between you so it wouldn’t hurt as much when you’d have to say goodbye.”

“He’s right; that was the reason.”

“The not knowing… that’s been painful, for him.  But it was a pain he was willing to bear, for your sake.”

Jack’s shoulders sagged.  Had he ever been that unselfish, in his life?  That Ianto loved him so much was humbling.  He ran his hand over his face.  “The dance we shared,” he whispered, remembering how it felt as he and Ianto had been together, at their most elemental level.  “I don’t think he remembers.”

Luna reached out.  “Jack, _everything_ has changed, for him.  How his magic sits in his body – that alone is a fundamental shift, and it has to be incredibly disorientating.  Surely you feel something similar, in how the vortex is different in your body, now.  Added to that, there is so much _more_ of it, now that he has full access to all of his magic.  He is off balance, simply because of how new and strange that must feel.  And now there is a new dynamic between the two of you…  Give him some time to process all of this, and let things settle.  He’ll remember, I promise.  But in the meantime, all of his fears and insecurities are going to be playing up.”

“Never mind he died yesterday,” Neville shivered.  “I know it’s not the first time, but still.”

Jack nodded.  “You’re right.”  He frowned.  “I didn’t think he remembered what happened, that night with Lisa.”

“He does.  He only told me last month.  And then there’s the Year.  He won’t say what happened, but…” Neville immediately saw his error as Jack gasped, blanching. 

Luna just stared at him.  “Oh, Neville,” she sighed.

“What did you just say?” Jack hadn’t thought he could feel any more ill.

“Merlin’s pants,” Neville muttered.  He looked at Jack.  “I’m so sorry, Jack.  He didn’t want you to know.”

“Know what?” Jack had begun to shake.

Luna took his hand, to try to ground him.  “We – the wizarding community, that is – we all remember the Year,” she said quietly.

“Oh, gods, no,” Jack muttered, fighting the tears.  “Please, no…”

“Jack, he doesn’t blame you,” Luna spoke slowly.  “That’s why he didn’t want you to know.  He didn’t want you to blame yourself, even more than you already do.”

The tears were falling now, and Jack was doing his best not to panic.  During the Year, the Torchwood team had led the Master a merry chase.  They had headed the Resistance effort and wreaked havoc at many of the Master’s missile-building sites.  It was eleven months before the Master finally captured the team, just as Jack had begun to hope they would make it through the year, and hold out until Martha returned and the Doctor’s plan was executed. 

He shuddered at the memory of how the Master had finally caught the team…

He had captured Rhys Williams.  Gwen turned herself in, in exchange for the guarantee of Rhys’ safety.  Of course, as soon as she was in custody, the Master slaughtered Rhys.  He then tortured the whereabouts of the rest of the team out of Gwen.  She gave up Ianto before the first blow had fallen.  Then Owen.  She held out longest for Toshiko, but not having been trained to resist any type of torture, she hadn’t lasted long.

Jack could only assume that Gwen had told the Master of Jack’s partiality to Ianto, and the mad Time Lord had carefully planned the young man’s torture, accordingly.  He was creative in causing maximum pain – and death – without damaging Ianto’s body to the point that Jack could not revive him.

Jack had resisted, at first, but that was where Owen and Toshiko came in.  The Master would torture one of them until Jack could manage to revive Ianto.  If he revived him without resisting, they were left untouched.  He was unsure how the Master knew he could sometimes revive the dead.  Perhaps that had been Gwen, as well.  He had not blamed her – everyone eventually broke, in his considerable experience.  But he had found, when he returned from the Year, that much of his fascination with her had abated.  He just couldn’t forget…

Somehow, he managed to revive Ianto four times, altogether.  The first time he revived, he begged Jack to make it stop.  But the Master had shown him the pretty carvings he had made in Owen’s skin, to get Jack to cooperate.  Ianto stopped begging, after that.  It was then that Jack saw something of the young man’s mettle.  He had glimpsed it before, of course, but Ianto’s true strength was a thing to behold.

It annoyed the Master, no end.

It was during the torture that the Master (and Jack) discovered that Ianto was a wizard.  It was obvious, with the amount of magic that came loose as the Master explored the limits of what Ianto could endure.  The one good thing about Ianto losing control of his magic was that the way it arced out from him meant that no one could get close enough to rape him, as the Master had originally planned.  Despite being thwarted in this, the Master had been _thrilled_ to have a wizard to explore, and had found other ways to inflict pain and anguish, for Ianto’s torture and Jack’s torment.

The fourth time Jack revived Ianto, it had taken a long time, and Owen had not survived the Master’s impatience.  When Ianto died for the fifth and final time, Jack was unable to revive him.  In his rage at having lost such a diverting toy, the Master killed Toshiko, as well.

Jack had only had to live with the deaths of his team for two weeks, before the timelines reset.  His only consolation had been that none of them remembered.  And now, he had to wrap his mind around the fact that his lover had remembered it all, and had said nothing about it. 

He whooped in a breath, trying to calm himself.  “Please, no,” he repeated miserably, swiping at the tears.

“He told us that you shouldn’t be the only one to carry the burden,” Neville said resolutely.  “But he didn’t want you to know that he was helping you to carry it, either.”  He reached out and grasped Jack’s shoulder.  “Blimey, Jack.  I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have said.”

“No,” Jack said, feeling steadier.  “No, I’m glad you did.  I’m sorry he felt it needed to be a secret.  We could have helped each other.”

Luna smiled.  “He says just being close to you made most of the nightmares stop.”

Jack nodded.  “Same for me,” he gave a weak smile, but in the next moment, it evaporated.  “Gods, Ianto,” he muttered, burying his head in his hands.

“Captain Harkness, I believe you should return to your rooms,” Professor McGonagall was standing over him, a hand on his shoulder, her voice gentle.  She had been standing there for several minutes, and her heart went out to him, for what he had just learned.  She had no idea what Ianto had endured, but Luna had told them that it was dreadful.  “You look exhausted, still.  We do not expect to see either of you for another two days, at least.  You both need rest, and you need to process everything that has happened.”  She gave him a kindly smile.  “The house elves will provide whatever food and drink you may want.  Just call for Winky.  Either Draco or Poppy will be checking in on you, to give you more potions and be sure you are resting well.”

“Go back to him before he wakes alone, Jack,” Luna encouraged.  “This time will be good for you, just be patient.”

“Not my strong suit,” Jack said, getting to his feet.  He looked from Luna to Neville.  “Thank you for letting me know… where things stand.”

***

Jack quickly undressed and crawled back into the bed, gathering Ianto into his arms.  The sleepy wizard was warm and pliable, and let out a contented purr as Jack pressed their bodies together as closely as possible.

“I thought maybe you’d left,” Ianto whispered, startling Jack.

“I’m not going anywhere, Ianto,” Jack breathed just behind his ear, causing the younger man to shiver.  Time to start being more open with his lover, and eliminate any doubt.  He kissed Ianto’s ear.  “How do you feel?”

“Strange.  Tired.  _Really_ sore.”  Jack had noticed that there hadn’t been any sort of reset for Ianto – much like the times before, where it had been the vortex reviving him, by proxy, and he’d wakened with all of the battering his body had taken, still intact.

Jack immediately loosened his hold on Ianto, not wanting to hurt him.

Ianto drew in a quick breath and flailed an arm back, trying to pull Jack close again.  “Please don’t leave me,” he rasped, but then his body tensed and he released Jack again.  “Gods, I sound pathetic.  I didn’t mean…”  He began curling away from Jack, clearly mortified.

“Shh,” Jack soothed, pulling Ianto close, once more.  “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere, I promise.  I know what it’s like, remember.  The need for warmth and comfort and…” he trailed off.  “For quite a while, now, you’ve done everything in your power to be with me, whenever I revive.  That means the world to me, Ianto.  I don’t think I’ve told you that, but it really does.  It’s…  It makes it bearable.  Waking up in your arms, having you soothe me back into the world.  You make me feel safe, no matter what I’m waking up from… or to.”

Ianto pressed his body further back into Jack’s.  “How do you feel, Jack?  You died too many times, yesterday.  And your adjustment is probably even greater than mine – you’ve had the vortex in your body for so much longer than I’ve had my magic.”

“Yes, but you’ve had your magic all your life.  I think we’re both in the same boat,” Jack reasoned.  “It doesn’t feel all that different to me, though.  Or rather, it’s… subtle.”

“The change is subtle?”

“No, the vortex is.  It feels like a gentle hearth fire, rather than a blazing inferno.  It’s soothing, now, rather than terrifying.  It’s…  It’s beautiful,” he breathed, finally acknowledging the change in how the vortex inhabited his body.

Ianto turned in his arms.  “I had no idea it was terrifying, for you.  I’m sorry, Jack.”

“You don’t need to apologize.  You’re the one who’s fixed it.  Or rather, un-fixed it,” Jack grinned.  He leaned in for a slow, sweet kiss.  “What about you?” he asked, when he leaned back.  “How is it different, for you?”

Ianto frowned.  “The same as how you describe it, really.  It feels safe and comforting rather than something I can barely get a handle on.”

“I never knew your magic made you uncomfortable, in that way.”

Ianto shrugged.  “I thought it was normal.  I mean, I knew it wasn’t _normal_ , but I figured…  I knew that I was damaged, from… various things.  I figured it was normal, for me.”

Jack kissed him again.  “It sounds like we both have adjustments to make,” he said said, marveling in the similarities they had never realized they shared.  “But at least it seems like these are good changes, rather than unpleasant ones.”

“Mmm,” Ianto nodded, his eyes drooping.

Jack traced his fingers along Ianto’s brow, then across his cheekbone, then his jaw.  “You look tired.”

“I am, but I’m also hungry.  Can’t remember when I last ate.  How about some food, and then the rest of Draco’s sleeping potion?”

“Sounds good.  Professor McGonagall said something about a house elf named Winky?”

“Have you ever met a house elf, Jack?” Ianto asked as he sat up to get out of the bed.

“No, I haven’t.  But during the battle I did catch a glimpse of them, from a distance.”

“I’m going to shower, first,” Ianto smiled invitingly.  “Care to join me?”  He unselfconsciously rose from the bed and strode towards the ensuite.

Jack jumped from the bed and followed, grinning.  They were too tired for any shenanigans, but he couldn’t resist being close to Ianto, right now.  After they showered and dressed in the pyjama bottoms Ianto’d had the foresight to pack, the wizard called out to Winky, who appeared with a pop. 

Jack tried not to jump, but his surprise at the appearance of the house elf was surmounted by… well, the appearance of the house elf, up close.  He continued to marvel that the earth had these hidden species that none but the magical community normally encountered.

“Hello, Winky.  It’s good to see you, again,” Ianto said, kneeling down so he could more easily face her.

“It is good to see you as well, Ianto Jones,” came the high, squeaky voice.

“Are you well?” he asked, seeming genuinely concerned.

“I am very well.  I have not had a drink of butterbeer since before the battle,” she answered, looking proud.  But then her ears drooped.  “But it is very difficult, almost every day.”

“But it is a worthwhile struggle, and you are doing so well!” Ianto said, sounding pleased and proud, but in no way condescending.  “I am so happy for you.”

“I am happy, as well,” she smiled, then looked shy.  “I still have the book you gave me.  It is a help and comfort, whenever I am craving the butterbeer.”

“I’m glad,” he smiled.  “Could we trouble you for some breakfast?”

Winky nodded.  “Does Ianto Jones want porridge with crushed almonds and jam and berries?”

Ianto smiled.  “You remember.  And tea, please.”

Winky looked expectantly to Jack.  “And Sir?”

“I am Jack Harkness,” Jack said, kneeling beside Ianto.  “It’s nice to meet you, Winky.  I’ll have the same, please.”

Winky nodded, looking pleased.  She disapparated, leaving the two men alone.

“Butterbeer?”

“It affects house elves like alcohol.  She became addicted after a traumatic experience.”

Jack led Ianto back towards the bed.  “And the book?”

“Just a little twelve-step book,” Ianto shrugged.  “I saw her one day, soon after we all came back to school, the autumn after the battle.  She was having a difficult day, and I thought having some guidance might help her.  The other house elves were not terribly sympathetic to her struggles.”

Jack took Ianto in his arms and kissed him.  “Do you have any idea how wonderful you are?” he smiled.

Ianto blushed, then shrugged.  “It just seemed like the kind and decent thing to do.”

Jack got Ianto to sit against the headboard with pillows piled behind him.  He then sat between Ianto’s knees, facing him.  His thighs rested on top of Ianto’s, and he wrapped his lower legs around the younger man’s waist, thankful his legs were flexible.  By the time they were settled, Winky was back with a tray.  She set it on the bed next to them, then gave Ianto a smile.  Jack chuckled when she winked at him before disapparating again.

“Just what is the plan here, Jack?” Ianto asked, amused.  “You’re sitting too close for us to be able to eat.”

Jack smiled.  He took Ianto’s hands and placed one on each of his knees.  “You stay just like that,” he instructed.  He leaned forward and kissed Ianto before reaching for one of the bowls.  It was porridge that had been liberally mixed with crushed almonds, then swirled with jam and blueberries, blackberries and raspberries.  It looked delicious.  He held a spoonful out to Ianto, who raised an eyebrow.

“You are not feeding me, Jack,” he said.

“No, I’m feeding us.  One for you, then one for me,” Jack replied, holding the spoon in front of Ianto’s mouth until he opened it and ate his porridge.  Jack ate a spoonful, savoring the flavors.  Then he held another spoonful up for Ianto.  “Indulge me,” he said, when the younger man looked exasperated.  “I lost you yesterday.”  Jack allowed Ianto to see just how much that had wrecked him.

Ianto frowned, then nodded.  He sat there, his hands on Jack’s knees, allowing the older man to feed him his porridge.  Until that moment, it had felt silly.  But now it seemed like a way for Jack to take care of him, and he realized it might help assuage the guilt that – right or wrong – Jack felt for his brother’s insanity.  So he watched as Jack ate a spoonful after every one he fed to Ianto.  He watched Jack’s face, uncharacteristically still as a comfortable silence expanded between them.  He was surprised by the care he saw in Jack’s face.  He dared not name it any more closely; he felt muddled and unsure of himself, so he needed to just ground himself, for now.

It was comforting for them both.  Ianto felt cared for; Jack felt nurturing, which was a rare feeling for him, but he realized he liked it, very much.  He liked taking care of Ianto.  He hoped the younger man would allow it, more often.  He certainly took care of everyone else, and he deserved the same care, himself.  It saddened him that it was such a foreign concept to his young lover.  Clearly, he had never been coddled or pampered.  Jack wondered what made Ianto so good at doing it for others, and he realized with a pang that he did for others what he probably would enjoy having someone do for him.  He vowed to pay better attention, and to be the one to take care of Ianto, from now on.

When the first bowl was empty, Jack placed it on the tray and then fixed Ianto’s tea.  Ianto was surprised to see that Jack knew how he took his tea, but he did not comment.  Jack must have caught his look, because he smiled ruefully.

“I know more than you think I do, Ianto.”

He held the cup to Ianto’s lips, allowing him to drink.  Then he took a sip, himself.  It was delicious.  “More?” he asked, his voice quiet.

Ianto nodded, and Jack gave him more tea.  Then he leaned in and gave Ianto a slow, sweet kiss.  As he leaned back, he smiled.  They drank more tea, then Jack picked up the second bowl of porridge, continuing to feed them both.  “I get the impression that yesterday was so overwhelming for you that you may be blanking on some things.  Maybe have some temporary gaps in your memory,” he said, tentatively.

“I was wondering about that.  Everything after I… died is a bit hazy,” Ianto frowned.  “Did the Doctor show up, or was that a dream?”

“He did.  Along with thirteen of your friends.”

Ianto frowned.  “I…  I only remember…”

“Shhh,” Jack leaned forward and kissed the frown from Ianto’s forehead.  “You’ll remember, as things settle.  But I wanted to point this out to you so I could ask you to consider…  There might be other things you may not remember, just yet.”

“Like what?”

Jack set down the empty bowl, took his hands, and kissed him.  “Don’t worry about that now.  Just consider that maybe we expressed some things to one another that you don’t remember, right now.”

And there it was.  A look that made Ianto tremble.  It was not caring.  It was not fondness.  It was not affection.  Jack was looking at him with such _love_ blazing from his entire being that Ianto could not deny what he was seeing.  “Jack?” he whispered.

“I won’t say it again until you remember.  But I promise you, Ianto.  This is _not_ mere gratitude.”  Jack wrapped his arms around Ianto and pulled him close, kissing him with a quiet passion that bespoke a deep love, and a promise.

As the kiss ended, they held onto one another for several minutes, and Ianto frowned again.  A promise…  Something tickled at his memory, but the more he chased it, the more it whisped away from him, like the memory of a dream.

Eventually they called Winky to take the tray away.  They drank their potions and settled back into the bed, holding one another close.  They spoke of nonsense things until sleep claimed them, once more.

***


End file.
